TWO years ago, Graeme Stevely was working daytimes in a call centre.

Then almost before you could count to ten slowly, he pulled off grey suit and turned into Grado.

Grado became an international wrestling star, appeared in BBC Scotland’s police sketch show Scot Squad, and followed this rapidly by becoming one of the leading lights in TV soap River City.

All with no acting experience to his name whatsoever.

It’s been revealed today the 27 year-old will join the cast of this year’s Glasgow Pavilion panto, Elfie’s Magical Adventures.

But next week, he’s starring at the King’s Theatre with his own stand-up show as part of the Glasgow Comedy Festival.

What’s clear is the young man with the cheeseburger chubby face is well on his way to become a showbiz all-rounder in the style of variety stars of yesteryear.

He’s a modern-day Jack Milroy or Jimmy Logan, with 50,000 Twitter followers.

You discover Grado even has his own catchphrase, It’s Yersel.

So what is there about this young man that makes him Scotland’s Most Wanted performer?

First up, you are immediately struck by how un-quiet this young man is, a personality as loud as a full body slam from the top of the ropes. That’s not to say he’s in any way intimidating however. The opposite; he’s warm as a winter cuddle.

But what makes him endearing is he’s as natural as bran flakes and as unfiltered as the coffee his gran used to feed him for breakfast as a four year-old.

Was little Graeme Stevely a handful as a child.

“I got a lot of energy from being around my gran,” he says, smiling. “I’d be jumping off her wardrobes onto the bed, getting up on the roof. While she was watching Family Fortunes I was phoning America - on her phone. I was daft.

“At school, I loved to entertain. In Primary Five, I played Bob Cratchett in A Christmas Carol at Saltcoats Town Hall.

“My teachers thought I was the class clown. The jester. Maybe that's why my report cards used to say 'Easily Distracted’.”

Did he have ADHT as a kid? He breaks into a knowing grin; “No, but I tell you what; the coffee and the four Abernethy biscuits my gran gave me for my breakfast may have had an effect.”

Little Graeme grew up in the “tap end” of Stevenston “wrestling daft.”

Aged twelve, he set up a wrestling ring in his garden made up of washing rope and the old mattresses he'd collect from going round the doors. "I'd wrestle all day, rolling about wearing nothing but my Asda George breeks. Then when I wrestled indoors I broke beds. My bed, my gran’s bed. My uncle's bed. I just kept on breaking beds."

Far from being rebellious, Grado’s first job when he left school was Community Warden.

“It was one of the worst feckin’ jobs in the world,” he says, grinning. “These guys thought they were the actual police. God, they loved their uniform, the red hat, red polo shirt - and giving folk fines if their dug s*** in the street.

“To be honest, I took the job because I fancied getting into the polis. But as an eighteen year-old, I didn’t want to be chappin’ on someone’s door and being told to f*** off and cut your own grass.”

He applied twice to be an actual policeman. Now, that was a uniform, he admits, he loved.

“I applied for the police cadets, aged sixteen,” he recalls, “and before the panel I was asked (takes on police interviewer soft, serious voice) ‘What do you think of sectarianism Graeme?’ Then, astonishingly, I heard myself saying ‘I’m a season ticket holder at Ibrox masel’, but I do not partake of The Sash.’ I then added; ‘Look, I’ll sing Follow, Follow – but I won’t go near the Billy Boys.’

“Now, I’m sure they were expecting a less personally specific answer and I could see these cops looking at each other thinking ‘This boy’s a feckin’ clown!’”

Two years later, now a Community Warden, Grado applied for the Big Police.

“I’d stopped smoking, I’d started running, I was mad keen and always in polis stations, keeping in with them. And everybody, even the community wardens, some made up of ex-polis, told me I’d be the perfect polisman.

“But when I went up for the interview and was asked why I wanted to join the police force I began ranting on about how much I loved the Bill.

“They looked at each other, again in disbelief and I knew I’d blown it. And it broke my heart.”

He adds, with perfect pathos; “At this time I was watching Street Crime UK every single night. I was obsessed with it. What made it worse was I knew if I’d got through the first day’s interview I’d be measured for the uniform on the second day. But the dream was dead.”

Not entirely. Eight years on he landed the Scot Squad role.

“There I was, standing looking at myself in uniform and I thought ‘I’ve made it!’ Ok, it’s not the real thing. It’s heightened reality.”

He adds, laughing; “I had no lines. I was told ‘You’re a polisman. You just make up the words.’ At this point I have to admit my erse was collapsin’. But I just got on with it and it worked.”

In 2004, Grado wore his mum's cycling shorts and a white T-shirt when he first took part in competitive wrestling in Greenock Town Hall.

Such was his pulling power, he signed up to the British Championship Wrestling, and promotions such as Insane Championship Wrestling, which takes place across the country in halls and nightclubs.

But at five ten he doesn't look like a typical wrestler? “I hate going to the gym and I eat a load of rubbish. But when I lose weight, sometimes it jist happens, American fight promoters tell me it’s killing my character. They say people like to see The Fat Boy Next Door.”

River City loved the Fat Boy Next Door with the huge personality and and signed him to play pro wrestler, Buster. But why did he leave if Buster was causing blood vessels to burst with laughter?

“The producers were always trying to work around me going off somewhere, to wrestle abroad or film whatever and I was giving them grey hair.

“And they got the impression I wasn’t interested in doing the show again. But that’s not true. I want to go back to the show because I want to go part-time with the wrestling.”

Is his slightly less-than-honed Stevenston body taking a battering? “Oh aye.”

He touches the scars on his head picked up after his skull collided with a metal chair throw by an opponent one night in Ardrossan Civic Centre. It’s not surprising Grado is going where the more gentle heat is.

“I’m choking to do panto,” he says and his face lights up.

“And I could sing if required.” To confirm his variety talent, he then proceeds to offer a very decent rendition of The Mamas and the Papas hit Monday, Monday, segues into Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone and ends on a big operatic note that’s almost Go Compare dramatic.

“See, it’s not hard,” he says grinning. “I can fake singing. I did that it and it got me through my Higher Music.

What’s obvious about Grado is he has funny bones, bruised and battered nonetheless, but he’s a showbiz natural, a modern day variety star.

But perhaps his greatest talent is his ability to laugh at himself.

For example, he spoke recently of fighting a 20 stone opponent, “a big scary b*******,” and revealed his coping strategy.

“I’m going to the gym tomorrow. I’m working on my cardio ‘cos I’ll need to be able to run away from him.”

There’s little doubt the Grado success story will continue, legions of fans will continue to ask for smartphone pics, It’s Yerselfies, Michael Barrymore will continue to Tweet offering career advice. (“He’s hilarious, but presents this moral dilemma, given a dead body was pulled out of his swimming pool fifteen years ago.”)

But what of stand-up? Surely, the prospect must be terrifying?

“Not really. My confidence is quite high and a lot of that came from wrestling in America. You see, the first time I went out there the guy I was fighting thought I was an absolute joke.

“He said it was a pure disgrace the promoters had flown me over to the States to make my debut live on American television.

“Now, we’re all intelligent enough to know that wrestlers ‘speak’ to each other before going in the ring. (Stunts are agreed, limits discussed).

“But during the pre-match talk he didn’t show me any respect whatsoever. My first thought was ‘A’m no’ daein’ this! This guy hates me. This guy is goin’ to f***** batter me,’ as I reached for my phone to get a flight booked back to Scotland.”

Did he batter you?

“Oh, he did, aye. When the bell rang he got stuck right into me. He was way harder with me than he should have been.

But the point of this story is I’ve been battered stupid on American TV. So what else can happen to me? Doing a stand-up routine at the King’s isn’t going to be worse than that.”

He adds, laughing like a madman; “I think.”

• Grado Live It’s Masel’, March 17 and 18, 19.30 and 19.15pm.